Pastimes
by Timesprite
Summary: When the X-Force gang gets bored, strange things happen.


Pastimes Disclaimer: X-Force (ahem, the real and rightful X-Force) belongs to Marvel not me, though, frankly, they should have those rights revoked. Anyway, no profit is being made here...yada yada. Thanks (and blame) for this story go to Aj and Cosmic, the wenches. There is no continuity. 

Pastimes   
by Timesprite 

"Aw, damn. What are we going to do now?" Tabitha peered around the doorway to the den. 

"We could always try hooking it up to the communications console..." 

"We tried that before, remember Jimmy? That's how the last Playstation got shorted out." 

"Hey, I didn't know it'd do that!" Rictor interjected. "Isn't there anyplace else we can move it?" 

"Nope, not since Miss. Songbird here busted the other TV," Tab replied, jerking her thumb in Theresa's direction. 

"It was nae my fault!" 

"Uh, guys, maybe we should find somethin' else to do. Ah don't think it'd be a good idea t' wake him up." 

"Are we attempting the Guinness world record for most mutants crammed into a doorway?" X-Force turned in unison to see Domino standing at the other end of the hallway, regarding them with a bemused look. "What's up? I thought you guys were having a Street Fighter tournament." 

"Terry broke the Dreamcast." 

"I didnae!" 

"We were gonna use the Playstation, but uh... Well, Cable's kinda sleeping on the couch." 

Domino arched an eyebrow and glanced into the room. "Well, he _was_ up for 72 hours straight going over those reports. Can't you just hook it up to the other TV?" 

"It... sort of overloaded when the Dreamcast shorted out." 

Domino rolled her eyes. "Tell you what. I'll see if I can wake the big lug long enough to get him to his room. He'll be cranky if he wakes up on the couch anyway." She pushed past her charges and into the den, kneeling beside the couch. "Nathan? Hey, Nate." She shook his shoulder slightly. "Nate! Ah, c'mon," she scowled slightly. "Nate, there are a fleet of Sentinels on the front lawn, and they're here to take your favorite plasma rifle..." Nothing. With a sigh, she walked back to the door. "No dice. He's out like a light. Looks like you guys are going to have to find something else to keep you entertained." A collective groan went up amongst the assembled. "Now, hold on a second. I have an idea I think you'll like..." 

---- 

"Tab, could ye pass me the super-hold hairspray?" 

"Um... it's...Bobby, pass that over. Want the glitter too?" 

"Aye." 

"You realize we're _so_ dead the minute he wakes up," Roberto pointed out as he helped Terry fashion Cable's hair into a series of spikes, liberally coated with blue and green glitter. 

"No, 'we' are not dead. _You_ are dead. _I_ can still kick his ass," Dom replied with a grin as she carefully applied a coat of purple polish to her partner's fingernails. 

"Dom! It was _your_ idea!" 

"No one said all my ideas were _good_, Julio. Did you find that hat?" 

"You bet." He dropped the straw hat next to her. 

"Like he's not going to realize whose nail polish that is," Tabitha pointed out from where she was carefully drawing on Cable's techno-organic arm with a tube of red lipstick. 

"Face it, Tabitha, I'm immune." 

"Damnit..." 

"Shhh! Do you want him to wake up and catch us?" 

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Sam, he's dead to the world." Domino finished with the nail polish, and took a step back to admire their handiwork. "Terry, that eye shadow is truly inspired. Whose pink lipstick is that?" 

"Tabitha's. Though I do think it looks a might better on Cable." 

"Hey!" 

"We're dead." 

"It's just harmless fun, Sam. He'll laugh, really..." Domino carefully balanced the wide-brimmed hat on top of the glitter encrusted spikes. "And if he doesn't... well, I'll take full responsibility. Now, where's Jimmy? He was supposed to get us a camera." 

"Got it!" 

"Great. Digital or film?" 

"Digital. I figure if we can email this to as many relatives as possible, they might be able to track the bodies." 

"Jimmy, I knew there was a reason we kept you around. Anyone wanna pose?" 

"Okay... wait how do ya set the timer on this?" 

"Second button on the right, Guthrie." 

"Right, got it." He set the camera on the television and ran to join the crowd around the couch. "On three, guys. One..." 

"Three." The rest chorused in. 

"This is our cue to run now, right?" 

"Probably a good idea to get out of the blast radius, yeah. I'll stick around an take care of it. Actually... Terry, is there any glitter left?" 

"A bit," she said, retrieving the bottle. 

"Great, toss it over here, would you? Oh, and you guys _might_ want to look away..." She reached over and dumped the remaining contents of the bottle down the waistband of the sweatpants Nathan was wearing. 

"Did she... just do what I think she did?" 

"Man, that's harsh." 

Domino laughed. "I'd scram if I were you guys. Go catch a movie... or two," she amended, giving Cable a second glance. She picked up the camera. "Meanwhile... _I've_ got some work to do before sleeping beauty wakes up." 

---- 

"So, how are the cleaning efforts going?" Domino spoke up to be heard over the sound of running water. Her query was met with silence, and she sighed as she leaned against the doorframe. "Don't tell me you're still mad at me." 

The door opened a crack, giving her a glimpse of Cable's scowling face. "I can't believe you helped them." 

"Maybe _next_ time you'll _listen_ to me when I tell you to get some sleep, you old goat." 

"Haha. Very funny. I've got glitter in places I don't want to _think_ about, thanks to you." he replied sourly. "Hope you're happy." 

"Very," she grinned. "Need help with that nail polish?" 

He eyed her warily. "You're far too pleased with yourself. What did you do?" 

"Me?" She batted her eyes in mock-innocence. "What makes you think I did a thing?" 

"Because, you're grinning like the Cheshire cat, that's why. I know that smile Dom. It's the same one you'd get whenever you played a particularly nasty prank on Grizzly. What did you do?" 

"I assure you, Mr. Summers, I'm completely innoce--" Her sentence cut off with a shriek as he tackled her, pinning her to the bed. "No... fair." 

"Fair?" He smirked. "Where ever did you get the impression that I was fair?" 

---- 

Scott Summers woke blearily to the sound of his wife laughing rather loudly in their kitchen. _'Jean? What's up?'_

_#The mail came,#_ was his wife's reply, her 'voice' still tinged with amusement. _#You should really come down and see this.#_

"The mail," he mumbled to himself as he got out of bed. Normally, he was a morning person. But it was Saturday, and Saturdays were specifically designated for sleeping in. Even _he_ new that. He exchanged his sleeping goggles for his regular glasses and headed off to the kitchen. "Morning," he murmured, pausing to give Jean a quick kiss on the cheek on his way to obtain a glass of orange juice. "What came in the mail that was so amusing?" 

"Oh, just this." Jean grinned, waving a large photograph in front of his face. 

He almost choked on his orange juice as he got a good look at just what the photograph contained. The group shot of X-Force--which prominently displayed his son as the victim of a slumber party prank from hell--was signed 'Greetings from X-Force' in fluid silver script. 

"I was thinking we could have it framed," Jean chuckled. "It'd look great on the wall by the couch." 

"Oh, definitely." 

End   
  
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   [1]: timesprite.htm



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